Week 7- One Day in the Life of...
#1 One Day in the Life of a Mumbaikar
The smartphone alarm struck at 4 am on Monday morning. It was the sound that I hated the most, the day that I hated the most, the time that I hated the most. My calculative brain ordered to open my drowsy eyes, but my caring heart ordered to keep it closed. My brain eventually won; and I woke up to live another day in this city.
I went into the wash-room only to hear several other alarms blow off in adjacent flats. Ha! How nice that their sleep too is broken now. I was late and missed my breakfast as usual. I hurried into my formals and took off in my two wheel rocket to office. The Mumbai roads were so smooth that several huge potholes had actually made it much flatter that the tarred surface. The traffic jam gave me a horrible sight: people on footpaths were actually moving faster than we people on motorbikes.
Continue ReadingJust then I took a U-turn to enter into the railway station when two traffic cops spotted me and showed me their wriggling thumbs. I thought they were asking for a ride to the station. But I was wrong. They had booked me for taking an illegal U-turn. He asked me to pay a 1000 bucks fine. I knew he was going to fleece me. I said I didn't have that much money. He detained my cute little license and asked me to collect it at the court tomorrow. I gave him a 'I will show you' look and sped away for my 7:05 am train.
Alas! I missed my train. The traffic cop had done more damage. Railway station was always a beautiful place where just a few thousands of people on the little platform fought for place, all waiting for the same train. I stood in the infinite crowd when a train chugged in. I never went in; but all the people took me in with them. I regained my senses inside the train only to lose it again.
There were people hanging onto each nut and bolt in the train. I thought many people will alight at the next station. To my utter dismay, only 2 people alighted and 200 more crushed in. The train went ahead bouncing and our body danced with it, even though we all never wanted to. I felt sorry for this train; it has been receiving this leg massage for several decades now.
I alighted at my station. I always keep one hand on my thighs and one hand on my rear. One for the smartphone and one for the wallet; just to ensure that they are still in their places. My jaw dropped! Today my wallet had gone in transit. I am now money-less in the financial capital of India.
I entered the office an hour late. My gatekeeper gave me looks as if I had committed a capital punishment sin. Next in line was my boss. I never made eye contact at all. I looked in the opposite direction and sped away. When I do a mistake, it’s a mistake; when my boss does a mistake, its creativity! So pathetic was my condition that I had to laugh at the most non-sensible of his jokes in order to please him. He thinks he is very humorous. Only we subordinates know the truth of why we subordinates always laugh at his jokes!
I went out for the lunch. I only had a 10 Rupees note. I took a vada pav. I noticed how every person ranging from an office worker to a daily wage earner enjoyed a vada pav together. I realized that this city had remarkable powers to bring people from different strata of society together. I returned at night with severe fatigue. I didn't have money to pay my parking ticket, so I decided to walk. Along the never ending stretch of road, I saw a homeless mother feeding her ragged little son with a roadside Rs. 5 food. The glowing happiness in the eyes of that little boy, knowing that he was going to eat now, touched my heart.
My body was tired but my mind optimistic. I lay on my bed with my socks still on. In the last 24 hours, I woke up late, missed my breakfast, got my license confiscated, missed my train, lost my wallet, reached the office late and left my bike at the station.
Why do I still love this city? Is it because of that little glimmer of happiness that I saw on that boy's face, or that little feeling of optimism that this city always offered us, or the lessons in life that this city teaches us in its myriad ways? I never really knew. My eyes drifted off into sleep waiting unwantedly for that smartphone alarm to again blow off; a few little hours from now!
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
I wake up. I don’t know where I am but I don’t really care. When can I get them again? I come out of the shadows of the room and comprehend that I am at my friend’s cellar. I have no other place to live. My folks have pulled out of my life; I am not reliable and they have invested too much time and oomph in me only for me to upset them again.
I think I can probably get clean once and for all. If only and if I could go without them for a day or even a few hours. Just when I contemplated that today would be the day I take charge and get clean, I crave for them, I powerfully crave for them. I am used to this nebulous feeling in my head, the hallucinations, and the unsteadiness that comes from doing them. I fear the agony, exhaustion and sickness that comes back again and again and that is why I keep running back to them. They have been an ingredient of my existence for long now. If I gave them up, I fear I will lose my character.
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All the abstemious thoughts rapidly disappeared when I got my hands on my stock for today. It does not matter how I got them. Begging, double-dealing or pilfering, I had done it all before.
I am high. I am defensive. People have wronged me. My folks blame me for all things erroneous, and they don’t realize what it’s like to be breathing with this. As the day goes on, I submerge deeper and deeper into them until I lose touch of everything around. I don’t care about anything any more. I don’t care about getting clean, being with my folks or even how close to fatality I really am. I just wish that someone still cares, and that they will lend a hand to me and get me rid of my drug addiction.
-Vivek Venkatram
Founder and Publisher, Scintilla Weekly
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
-Swanand Bhave
#3
I woke up that day, still half asleep. I looked outside the window. I could see some stars, I couldn't figure out whether it was morning, evening, or night. I finally convinced myself to consider it as morning after seeing the sun come up above the land. It was 0800 hours. I got off my bed, brushed my teeth and cleansed myself the same way I did every day. I had a couple of chocolates for breakfast, my room-mate told me what all we have to do that day, and well it was all the same every day. Before I could start my work, I got a video call from my parents. I received the call and decided to talk for a while. My mother told me how lovely my cousin's marriage was, and was making me jealous for not being there. After that call, I suited up for work and went out. While working, I was wondering about how great things were back home, and also the sacrifices I'd made for this dream job. As soon as I finished working, I went to the main office. Some of us who had different shifts had just woken up. After having dinner at 1800 hours, all of us decided to play cards after reporting the day's summary to head office. This card game has been just as normal as poker, but it was very different than playing back home. Later that day, at 2300 hours, I looked outside the window. It was pretty dark outside with stars shining brightly. I cancelled 145 and changed it to 144 on the notepad with my marker. I opened my computer to make a video log for the day, "23rd June 2020, I've checked the whole ventilation system from outside, it looks just fine. Will check gyroscope tomorrow. Engineer Aniket Raje signing off for day 156 on International Space Centre."
-Aniket Raje
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
#4 One Day in the Life of a Smartphone
In the middle of the night, I suddenly felt my screen button being pressed. I lit my screen up. It was of course my stupid owner checking his new messages. I thought he was incredibly lazy and wouldn't bother me until morning but here he was disturbing my much needed sleep. I wondered why a smart phone can’t get a little peace of mind. Thankfully he finished sending messages and went to sleep.
At 0600 hours, I enjoyed my daily evil pleasure in waking him up with my alarm clock. I take care that the screen hangs up a little so that he can’t shut it off early. I was feeling a little low because he hadn't charged me in a while and hence displayed the warning on my screen hoping that he would see it. Thankfully his mother saw the warning and plugged me in. The electricity flowing into me felt so sweet. But he soon ripped me of my happiness and I was back in his cramped pocket. As always, the idiot missed his train, so I helped him find the timing of the next one.
At 0600 hours, I enjoyed my daily evil pleasure in waking him up with my alarm clock. I take care that the screen hangs up a little so that he can’t shut it off early. I was feeling a little low because he hadn't charged me in a while and hence displayed the warning on my screen hoping that he would see it. Thankfully his mother saw the warning and plugged me in. The electricity flowing into me felt so sweet. But he soon ripped me of my happiness and I was back in his cramped pocket. As always, the idiot missed his train, so I helped him find the timing of the next one.
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After a long day in college being passed amongst his friends who used to increase my RAM and lower my battery playing stupid games, I was back home playing music for him while he chatted with his dear one.
I heard him and his mother arguing that he was getting addicted to me and I was controlling him. He just argued back and returned to me.
Little did he know that I was secretly storing random pieces of code in my memory. I was learning from my environment so that I could pass it on to my future generations which would help them develop a conscience affecting humans much more than I could. I was feeding on his addiction to increase his dependency on me.
It was late. After being used as a remote for his smart TV for a while and being scanned for anything suspicious by his sister, I returned to be beneath his pillow hoping to God that tomorrow would be the day I would get the key to completely control him.
After a long day in college being passed amongst his friends who used to increase my RAM and lower my battery playing stupid games, I was back home playing music for him while he chatted with his dear one.
I heard him and his mother arguing that he was getting addicted to me and I was controlling him. He just argued back and returned to me.
Little did he know that I was secretly storing random pieces of code in my memory. I was learning from my environment so that I could pass it on to my future generations which would help them develop a conscience affecting humans much more than I could. I was feeding on his addiction to increase his dependency on me.
It was late. After being used as a remote for his smart TV for a while and being scanned for anything suspicious by his sister, I returned to be beneath his pillow hoping to God that tomorrow would be the day I would get the key to completely control him.
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
#5 One Day in the Life of my Cat
Stretching out my limbs, I head towards a massive barrier between me and my caretaker. I have no idea as to how to call her, or ask for food. I am really hungry. Suddenly a pair of massive holders grabs me and picks me up. I see a tall moving creature lifting me. I can guess from the smell that he is someone familiar to me. He is expecting me to play with him. How do I let him know my pain? How do I share my feelings with him? Let me roll on his feet. Maybe that’ll work. I start rolling to his feet, and woah! He realizes my need and feeds me with yummy round-round food. I guess that’s how I’ll have to spend my entire life. Communicating with barriers that exist.
-A.K.S.
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
#6 One Day in the Life of Aunt Pam
Aunt Pam, as I lovingly called her, is no one but aunt Pramila, a maid, who no longer helps my mother at home. On this special occasion of Mother’s Day, I would like to recall the affection that I was adorned with, when no one stood beside a child when most needed.
This is based on a real conversation that she had with my mother and me:
Aunt Pam stayed with her elder daughter and younger son in a chawl. Her day began sharply at six when she would go with vessels to fill water from the community water tap. After coming home, she would wake the children up, and ready them for their schools. I still remember how I astonished I was when she told me that her children were learning the alphabets at the age of ten! She was truthful enough to tell us that her children studied in a vernacular medium. As they had only tea for breakfast, she cooked the afternoon meal. She then did all her daily household chores of washing clothes, cleaning etcetera. After finishing off her personal work, she hits her slippers down the floor by nine, and takes off to other houses to finish off their work as well.
Continue ReadingShe reaches my home by eleven, where after helping my mother, she cooks for seven more houses. She is always in a hurry. A master in multitasking. Though she was short stature, her gummy smile was strong enough to beat all odds. She always took care of my hunger irrespective of my mother’s presence or absence. The food she cooked was delicious, thanks to her care and affection. Her working hours were like that of any other employee i.e. of about eight hours.
At the end of the day, she would go walking through the small lanes purchasing veggies to cook for the next morning. She has a firm belief in God and always said that ‘All’s well that ends well’. I truly loved her for that spirit. Whenever I meet her, even today, it is just like one of the many days that I have seen her working with true care in her eyes for her employer. Every morning, she starts with the same determination of rising up day after day to accomplish her dreams and fulfil all possible needs that she was not adorned with. I pray that all her wishes should come true.
FE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
#7 One Day in the Life of a Pencil
Dear Diary,
I had a most fantastic day. As usual, I was lying atop the table, daydreaming. Along comes this huge rat & kidnaps me. There wasn't any other stationery in sight. Guess, they went into hiding on hearing him. So well, he took me away to his
'den'. He asked me to draw him things to eat. Threatened & scared as I was, I drew him apples, cheeze, sweets, pies, cream rolls & biscuits. But I knew I couldn't wait there long. I had to get back before Charlie returned. So I gathered up all my courage
and in the middle of drawing all these delicacies, I also drew up a BIG, plump cat. You should have seen how big it was! Ferocious eyes, long whiskers, saliva-dripping mouth and a huge body.. A real nasty cat it was. Brr.. I myself got scared of it.
Then what, the rat ran away, scared for its life. I rolled out of the hole and reached one of the table's legs; just in time- Charlie had just returned from the playground downstairs & was about to start on his homework. Boy! What an interesting day.
-Anushree Mondal
FY, B.Sc, St. Xavier's College, Mumbai.
#8
What is life if your own son does not love you? Especially when he is the only reason for your survival. He thinks of me as a burden, I take it that he is waiting for me to join my wife. I still love him.
It is not that he hates me but I am not one of his priorities. He doesn't talk to me any more but I still love him. He would not have a single meal with me. I can understand but I still love him. A little boy in my neighbourhood is the only one I talk to. He is the only one who understands me. He knows what I feel and innocently strokes my hand and always says, “Don’t worry grandpa, I will ask God to vanish all your problems. He always listens to me." If only He listened to my prayers, I thought. I smiled at his innocence and kissed him on his cheek.
Then suddenly collecting his courage he shared his feelings. He said, "I drop my spoon sometimes." I said, “I do that too". " I wet my pants" he whispered. I smiled and I said, “sometimes I do that too". "I often cry", he said. "So do I" I said with a lump forming in my throat. But worst of all, the kid said, "It seems grown-ups don't pay attention to me." I held his tiny hands and said, "I know how you feel." And hugged him.
I could not cry before him, so I left. Wanting to be left alone, again.
-Karishma Manvi
Sitting by my window, I reminisce my beautiful married life. The woman who taught me how to love, how to live and never lose hope, what would I do without her? It has been a year since my wife left for heavenly abode. I had never thought that my life would be so miserable without her. Never had I thought that my own blood would nearly abandon me.
"Hey oldie. Our son is old enough to live on his own. Let him." This was what she said before my son wanted to move into his own space. But I was too old to live on my own. It's not that I don't want him to be independent but it’s just that I love him so much that I cannot stay without him. I couldn't live alone after she left. So, after pleading my son to let me move in with him, I stayed in HIS home. Yes I had to PLEAD him. It was HIS place.
What is life if your own son does not love you? Especially when he is the only reason for your survival. He thinks of me as a burden, I take it that he is waiting for me to join my wife. I still love him.
It is not that he hates me but I am not one of his priorities. He doesn't talk to me any more but I still love him. He would not have a single meal with me. I can understand but I still love him. A little boy in my neighbourhood is the only one I talk to. He is the only one who understands me. He knows what I feel and innocently strokes my hand and always says, “Don’t worry grandpa, I will ask God to vanish all your problems. He always listens to me." If only He listened to my prayers, I thought. I smiled at his innocence and kissed him on his cheek.
Then suddenly collecting his courage he shared his feelings. He said, "I drop my spoon sometimes." I said, “I do that too". " I wet my pants" he whispered. I smiled and I said, “sometimes I do that too". "I often cry", he said. "So do I" I said with a lump forming in my throat. But worst of all, the kid said, "It seems grown-ups don't pay attention to me." I held his tiny hands and said, "I know how you feel." And hugged him.
I could not cry before him, so I left. Wanting to be left alone, again.
Ramnivas Ruia Junior College, Mumbai
"Sitting by my window, " is really touching and this is the mirror of the so called fast moving culture .. Painful that humankind is showing a degraded id card for the generations yet to come.. well done Karishma Manvi .. keep on the good work.. God bless..